


Fragments

by Moozealand



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Notebook (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - The Notebook (2004) Fusion, Angst, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Character Death, The notebook!au, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moozealand/pseuds/Moozealand
Summary: You have lost your husband Steve to the brutalities of the second world war.Brokenhearted and lost you try to find something that takes the pain away, so when you stumble upon Bucky, a lonely soldier who is also just looking for comfort in this hopeless time and place, you think that there’s hope. That you can somehow fill this void and find a will to live again.But you’re not the only one that’s hurting and it’ll take the hard way to find out the painful thruth.





	Fragments

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is inspired by The Notebook, but not the relationship between Noah and Allie, but the relationship between Noah and Martha Shaw, the war widow, portraying the bittersweet wannabe-romance that blooms between them during both of their lowest points in life.  
> I wanted to bring this story onto ‘paper’ because I found their relationship to be really sad and beautiful at the same time.

It’s a cruelty of life that a heart can keep beating after it has been broken in two.

It can feel as though a glove of ice encloses your heart, pressing down on the struggling muscle, while at the same time there’s a red hot coal placed inside your chest that’s glowing and burning through you, the ache so strong it should have killed you a long time ago, but yet the _boom-boom-boom_ still continues.

To come so close to pure love and loose it so violently is something no medication can heal.

A breaking heart is suffering, although there is more to it than just that.  
The symptoms that show are the same you’d feel when getting hit by an old motor truck.  
There’s an abundance of ripped flesh, shattered bones, cracked ribs and a bleeding heart.  
In other words, it was the purest form of pain, since all the damage was internal and there was nothing you could do about it.  
Your body was burning every day, the days stretching into endlessness as you counted the minutes because you knew that time was the only medicine your body would potentially accept. Hopefully.

But months went by, his absence having become a presence for itself as you found it in the empty space next to you of your shared bed, haunting you through your sleepless nights and the unused seat opposite of you at the kitchen table, avoiding the room altogether since your appetite had dwindled to nothing anyway.  
You kept the curtains closed so that you wouldn’t have to see life outside going on as usual because how could you possibly pretend it did when your world had crumbled?

The war had left many wives feeling hopeless and they had all the right to be- their husbands being taken one by one by their lethal duties to their own country.

The horrors of what they must go through day-in, day-out plagued your very being since the day you’ve received the letter. The one that ripped your world apart.  
Because since then you have been unable to keep its words outside your head, the imaginary image of your husband being blown to pieces a daily terror that haunted your very soul.

Steve hadn’t made it.  
Just like so many others.

So why did it feel like you were the only one having to go through with a trauma like this? Like the entire country, hell, the entire world chose to ignore the pain.

But you couldn’t.  
Even though you had tried. Oh _man_ , had you tried.

Having drowned yourself in alcohol every day for months at the local bar, realizing that there was only one other option that could make your heart heal quicker.

Finding Bucky seemed like a dumb choice at the time.

He was just another hurting soul searching to keep the loneliness crippling his every thought at bay.

But you had given it a try and noticed one thing; that you were not alone when you were together.  
And once you realized that the sex helped, you couldn’t get enough.  
Ride that high for as long as possible, you thought.

But something else had happened, something you didn’t feel was possible.

In those exact moments of absolute trust and vulnerability, feeling him deep inside you with every thrust, you touched him and saw his reaction; beautiful and raw.  
For those moments he was more real than the blood in your own veins, feeling him like the beating of your own heart.

He was not only making the pain beginning to fade, he was helping you feel again and you fell harder than a slip on ice.

He was funny, charming, cracking jokes in the hope of making you laugh because you, too, were curing his pain of loss. You were not the only one to suffer. A different kind, so you were to find out, but loss anyhow.

And after a few months you wanted to know more than his alcohol and bed preferences; wanted to get to know the man you only knew as Bucky Barnes, your fuck-buddy from the bar.  
You lingered with him after those moments, opening your heart to try and lure him closer- to make that connection you longed for so desperately.

Because there was something blooming in your chest. Something so pure and good that it gave you something you had thought to be long lost;   
Hope.

You crawled out of his bed, your heart still racing from the fading orgasm he had just given you, legs wobbly when you stood up, the cold air brushing your overheated skin as you made your way over to the kitchen.

“Do you want to go to the river tomorrow?” You raised your voice, not looking back over your shoulder to see his reaction. You couldn’t. Your heart was not only thrumming from exertion, but also because of the anticipation that shot an unusual amount of adrenaline through your veins. Flight or fight was kicking in. And you wanted to stay and fight for whatever this could still come to be.

“I don’t know.” You heard his deep voice from the other room.  
Your heart sank a little, but you didn’t want to give up so quickly.

“We can go to the bar next weekend if you like” You pulled two icy beer bottles out and closed the fridge’s door with a swing of your hips “It could be like we used to do. Drink Scotch, play billiards… could be fun…” You mumbled still loud enough for him to hear as you strolled back into the bedroom, keeping your face as unimpressed as possible; not wanting him to know how much you craved for his agreement- to see him nod or flash the lightest smile to show the glistening of his dazzling eyes.  
Oh, he had such dreamy eyes.

But he merely shrugged, gaze empty and hollow like he was not even there and you let out a small sigh to suppress the lump building up in your throat and crawled back into bed next to him, the sheets a bit rough against your sensitive skin, handing him the beer bottle.  
He took a swig out of it, lifting his arm to let you rest your head on his chest.  
Everything ached for him.

You were so close, but never close enough. Not the way you wanted to be. You needed more.  
Sex only had so much healing power and the duration of effect had begun to vary drastically, taking the pain for only a few minutes- hours if you were lucky- until it crept back into your life.

You heard his steady heartbeat pressed against the shell of your ear, having already recovered from your earlier exercise. Or whatever this was for him.

But you couldn’t stop crawling back to him, into his already welcoming and open arms. Even though he betrayed your affections and left your heart in a shattered disarray of pieces, taking one with him every time you freed yourselves of your clothes to fuck in hopes that it would finally make you feel something again.

But every time he stole something, in time, it became almost impossible to put those pieces back together. And because you still felt pain, so much raw pain, you thought you couldn’t be broken any more. 

Well, you had been wrong.

But still, you always came back to him. _Why was that?_

Maybe you hoped he’d return your pieces to put you back together.  
But he never did.  
He always took more.

He brushed his fingers through your hair and it was addicting. How could he not be?  
He was so incredibly handsome, brown locks falling into his face, blue eyes piercing, charming personality and his smile… it was intoxicating. But you had begun to see less and less of it.

You knew he didn’t mind the company, your company, but realized that he would and could never- _never_ -return the love you held for him. 

And that’s when you remembered why that was. Because the man laying next to you was hurting, too. 

“What do you want?” You spoke up, cheek pressed against his shoulder, watching him take in deep breaths.

“What do you mean ‘ _what do I want_ ’?” He asked, sounding deep in thought. Calm. Not realizing there was a storm brewing in the woman laying next to him.

“What do you want from me, Bucky?” You asked, gulping down the nervousness even though it was taking over your mind.

“Sometimes when you talk to me you don’t even see me.” Your voice had begun to shake and you closed your eyes, calming your breaths before continuing this train of thought.  
He wasn’t stopping you.

Maybe because he wasn’t even noticing you crumbling inside. 

Maybe because he was unable to understand your emotions.

Maybe he just didn’t care.

Maybe he had just become numb to feeling anything whatsoever. 

Either way, the lack of empathy, of a simple reaction caused pain to sear at your heart.

“Look, a woman knows when a man looks into her eyes and sees someone else.” You whispered, tears running freely over your face to pool in the dip of his collarbones.

“You know I want to give you anything you want, right?” He spoke up after a while. He felt your tears cooling on his skin, cursing himself for not being able to do anything against it.  
Because anything else would be a simple lie.

“But I can’t because they’re gone… because they’re broken.” 

He was talking about his old love, talking about her own. Whether it be her love for him or her departed husband.  
He couldn’t give her what had been taken from him by someone else.

You nodded your head slowly, sat up to wipe your silent tears away, threw the dress over your naked body, and left his house he had saved for someone else.

***

You felt pity for yourself when you drove back to his house just a few days later.

The wind was gushing through your hair as the window of your pick-up truck was down, letting the summer breeze cradle your face before it’d be Bucky littering that same exact skin with touches and kisses of his own.  
Your fingers went to the mark he had left on your throat the last time, having almost faded so you had to get a few new ones.

You knew you weren’t his, but you could still dream and looking at the love-bites in the mirror it only made you crave him more.

_Not_ love-bites. Hickeys. Bruises. _Not_ love-bites.

You shook your head when you drove onto his property, parking your car out front and grabbing the cookies you had baked for him.  
He wasn’t always eating. You had to make sure he wouldn’t be fading away right in front of you.  
You needed him too much and you still had hope.

A few knocks on the door had you waiting and your brows furrowed, waiting a few moments before knocking again before the door swung open and he appeared in the doorframe; a spark in his eyes you hadn’t seen before.

He looked so peaceful. So carefree… it almost made your chest light up with joy.  
Until that smile faded at the sight of _you_. Ouch.

His movements were hesitant, glancing behind him like there was some unknown presence lingering in his shadows until he bent down to press a fleeting kiss against your cheek

He had shaved.

You only noticed when you felt the absence of the scratch of his beard against your skin.

He hadn’t found the will to care enough about his appearance during all this time you had known him and you hadn’t cared. Not ever had you complained about it.  
It had never even come to your senses before that exact moment.

Because someone else had stepped into this house, into his life, that had changed the view of himself. Of everything else. And suddenly he cared.  
Even though he never had around you.

“She’s the one, isn’t she?” You asked, not wanting to be your biggest nightmare to be true, but all of your fears were confirmed once he nodded his head in shame.  
There was some remorse he was feeling after all.

You truly took your bond you had with him for granted, had been so naïve to think it unbreakable.

But when that door opened a second time to reveal the woman that had changed his life, that had both put him through so much pain and so much joy, that bond not only broke, but shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars.

Seeing her beauty and smile and everything else, your mind screamed the untold question;  
Why her? 

Why not me?

“You must be (y/n), I’ve heard so much about you. Do you wanna come in?” She asked and her face lit up, revealing her sparkling teeth and the friendliest smile and your throat tightened up because seeing the way Bucky looked at her, you knew it was over.

Because there was something so deeply rooted in his gaze that you knew you had never seen while he’d looked at you.

Love.

“No, it’s… I think it’s better if I go…” You stammered, through the nausea swirling in your empty stomach. Your head swam with cries that couldn’t flee your tight, burning throat, skin prickling like a thousand needles and heart aching as if your blood had become tar, struggling to keep a steady beat.

You couldn’t breathe.

You heard him call your name as you stumbled back to your car, an insatiable fire burning all the oxygen in your lungs. 

“(Y/n), don’t-” He said in a sad attempt to stop you, but you turned around before he could say anything else, raising your hands at him before you would completely succumb to the pain building up in your chest, a thin layer of ice spreading over your insides.

“I’ve forgotten what it’s like” You whimpered, throat closing up painfully.  
“For the first time since-” You couldn’t even say his name. Because you knew now you had lost both of them.  
“I felt like I had something to look forward to.”

Bucky was speechless. His own heart was aching. He held a place in his heart for her.  
Just not the way she had hoped.

And knowing that he was breaking her again, one by one, piece by piece… just then, mere minutes ago… he had shattered her heart completely.

Your fingers brushed over his smooth cheek, seeing the inner turmoil in his eyes, not knowing how to keep you from hurting because you had already know all along;  
That only one of you could go out of this alive, heart living and beating.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”  
You leaned in for one last kiss, heart being gripped in an ice-cold vice when you felt the lifeless press of his mouth against yours and before he could even respond you had already withdrawn, looking into those dreamy eyes one last time before getting into your car, driving until you felt no more once again.


End file.
